Privileged Information
by MLaw
Summary: Illya, April and Mark are charged with escorting a former Nazi to the Haag. For Illya it's personal. #29 in the Illya series


April Dancer put the finishing touches to her makeup before exiting the ladies lounge at the Vanderveer Hotel in _Den Haag.._.better known to the world as _The Hague;_ it was the headquarters of the International Criminal Court, the International Court of Justice, and a number of other international organizations. It has also hosted a number of investigative tribunals, peace conferences, and treaty meetings, and it continued to warmly welcome the international community and its organizations.

She and her partner, Mark Slate, had been sent to the city to oversee the transfer of an Nazi criminal captured in Holland and brought to trial. He was convicted of war crimes committed in Ukraine and sentenced to life in prison, to be served back in the infamous Spandau Prison in West Berlin.

With them was a taciturn and somber Illya Kuryakin who was supervising the transfer of the prisoner. He chose to remain far enough away from the heavily shackled prisoner named Hofstetter, while the man was flanked on either side by Dancer and Slate

He seemed to want to have nothing to do with the man and though he said nothing, April's instincts told her Illya either knew the man or had someone in his life affected by the former Nazi's actions.

Hofstetter was locked within a caged compartment inside an armored truck, with a fourth and fifth UNCLE agent driving and the other sitting shotgun, though Illya tried to take over the driving, but to no avail.

Once all was secure, the vehicle started the last leg of its journey to Rotterdam Airport. There the prisoner would be transferred to a private U.N.C.L.E. jet, and handed over to German operatives upon arrive in West Berlin. It was they who were tasked with taking Otto Hofstetter to the authorities and he would be imprisoned for the rest of his natural life.

Hofstetter had been the officer in charge of rooting out partisans fighting against the Germans in the Ukraine; part of Hitler's grand invasion plan of the Soviet Union dubbed Operation Barbarossa.

April studied the documents accompanying the prisoner and as her eyes focused on one detail, they widened with surprise.

"Illya, this says the prisoner was responsible for the death of hundreds of women and children who had been traveling to a bazaar in Kiev...you're from there aren't you, Kiev I mean."

Kuryakin nodded with indifference.

"Wait...you're Russian, so how could you be from Ukraine?"

"Ukraine consists of many people, some native Ukrainian others ethnic Russians. My father was Russian and my mother was Ukrainian and Russian. Illya left out the fact that he was one quarter Rom on his father's side

April looked at him, canting her head as she debated as to whether to ask her next question.

"I know what you are going to ask and yes I lost my family during the war."

"Oh Illya I'm sorry, I shouldn't be prying."

"You are not prying, you are being naturally curious and please there is no need apologize, nor to worry about me. It was all long ago."

He sighed, knowing what she really wanted to ask. "You are wondering why I was sent here this week to supervise the transfer when you, Mark and the other agents were most capable of handling it yourselves."

Well no not exactly but now that you mention it, why were you?"

Illya closed his eyes for a moment, perhaps thinking over whether to answer or not.

"I testified against the prisoner at his trial."

"What? How…?"

"April, don't you think Illya would have told us if he'd wanted to?"Mark interrupted.

"No Mark, questioning is understandable," Illya finally opened his eyes." I will tell you, but I must ask that you give your solemn word this goes no further. Napoleon and Mr. Waverly are the only ones who know of this."

"Darling I promise, but wait if it's too painful to talk about, you don't have to tell us."

"Right mate, none of our business if you ask me."

"No, it will be good to get it off my chest, so do I have both your words?

"Yes,"the partners answered in unison.

"When I was but a young boy during the war, I accompanied my mother and twin baby brothers from our home just outside Kyiv in search of food, to a place called the Yevbaz Bazaar. My mother had gathered the last of the family's money, her jewelry and few valuables to purchase what we could to help see us through the oncoming winter; winters are very harsh where I come from and it is not like New York where you can take a taxi to the corner grocer, deli, or a restaurant for that matter. All the crops had been confiscated by Stalin for the Red Army, leaving everyone else to fend as best they could."

"There were crowds of people with the same goal in mind, the finding of food. While walking for many miles, truckloads of Nazis appeared and pulled up, surrounding everyone…" Illya faltered for a moment." I will cut to the chase. A soldier grabbed my mother from the crowd, taking hold of one of my brothers from her arms and tossed him into the air, terrorizing him as he threw him again and again, until the soldier shot him while in mid-air. The same was done to his twin. Finally my mother was killed as she lay on the road, trying to reach the bodies of my brothers. The last thing she told me before she was shot was to run. I did so, pushing my way through the terrified crowds many of whom were also gunned down.

April and Mark listened in horror to the usually quiet Russian. Illya rarely spoke about his personal life, much less his guarded past.

"Oh my God, I had no idea. How old were you?" April gasped."I'm so so sorry…"

"I had just turned eight and no April," Kuryakin wagged his finger at her.

"I did not tell you these details to elicit pity from you. I testified that Otto Hofstetter was the officer who killed my mother and brothers.* His troops were most likely responsible for the death of my father and older brother as well, since they as partisans, were hunted down in the forest of Bykivnia, along with my Uncle and cousin. My _babush_...grandmother disappeared in search of food after leaving me and my baby sister alone, and...and my sister was killed by Hofstetter's troops who destroyed our home. This too I had also witnessed as I had gone in search of food myself and was forced to leave my sister hiding alone in the attic of our dacha. I could not save her." He lowered his head for a second.

Illya voice remained emotionless as he told the last of his tale.

"I was not the only witness to his evil deeds as other survivors told their stories as well and thereby added their own nails to Hofstetter's coffin, so to speak."

"How did you manage to keep from killing him yourself mate?"

"I would not sacrifice one more Kuryakin life to this man. No doubt I would have gone to jail if I killed him and my career ended. No, he made too many people suffer; his punishment must be long and as hopeless as ours was. A quick death for him would never have done."

As Illya went quiet, Mark spoke. "It doesn't compare mate but, I spent my childhood in London during the blitz. So much carnage and destruction; saw a fair share of death. And food? Cor, I've had my fill of jellied eel to last a lifetime as mum was hard pressed to put food on the table for me, my sister and brothers. My dad died during the war too, somewhere in France...they never found his body. Still, that's nothing compared to what you dealt with I'm sure."

"We all had our pain to bear Mark," Illya said, "some more than others. Was it not the American Civil war General Sherman, who said,' _War is hell?"_

"I never experienced anything like that," April added, though sheepishly."I grew up in the Midwest where life went on as usual though I'm a bit younger than you two, I recall reading about the war and seeing the old newsreels at the Bijou. That was one of the reasons why I joined U.N.C.L.E.; I wanted to help stop the insanity and now Illya after you sharing your private pain with me makes me all the more determined to be the best I can be at this job."

"I know you will fight the good fight, as Napoleon always saysive " Illya let loose a shy smile." Thank you for reaffirming that vow to do so."

The chirp of a communicator interrupted the conversation."

"Kuryakin here."

"Tovarisch, how goes it? You got the bastard at last didn't you...urmm, are you alone?"

"No, but I am among friends in the know. I guess I will see you in New York in a few days time."

"No you won't because I'm waiting for you at headquarters in West Berlin."

"Really?" Illya flashed a genuine smile this time.

"Napoleon darling, convenient of you to be turning up there," April called out.

"It is all right my friend," Illya said, "she and Mark know of my involvement in the trial."

"Well then, you two will have to join Mr. Kuryakin and myself for dinner as we toast...to family."

"And to seeing _what goes around comes around_ ," April added.

Illya nodded to that. "We will see you in West Berlin. Kuryakin out."

"Whaaa whaaa, whaaa," Hofstetter, finally spoke up. "I wish I'd killed you too when you were a little brat...shame I missed you in the crowd. Did you know I spat upon the bodies of your mother and brothers and I mutilated…"

Kuryakin froze, his eyes seething with anger. He'd avoided hearing the man speak during the trial but his voice was exactly the same. Illya remembered it and his head began to swim with the images of that terrible day so long ago. *

April Dancer stood up; drawing her Walther, cocking it with blinding speed and shooting Hofstetter...with a sleep dart.

"There, that's much better," she smiled.

"Thank you April," Illya said.

"You're welcome," she resumed her seat, taking out her compact from her purse, and powdering her nose.

.

* ref. "Beginnings."


End file.
